Appendix
by The-Tzipporah
Summary: The shocking truth about Neville Longbottom and the Two Faced Bastard.


Disclaimer:  
My husband wrote this two years ago in Icelandic, now translated for your enjoyment! As always, Rowling owns the entire world!

Author's note:  
_For years, Rowling's readers have wondered about the enigma that is Neville Longbottom. Not quite in the background but never centre stage, he seems to have little purpose other than to tie a few loose ends together._

_It is almost as if a real person has been edited out, to be replaced with a bumbling caricature, not quite a comical sidekick but more like the echo of a character with a story to tell, a poor placeholder for a -_

_...a hero?_

_This is not the story of Neville Longbottom. But perhaps it may explain why his story will never be told..._

---

Appendix

'This is surely an interesting and exciting story,' said Mr Wilkinson, CEO of Watford & Wilkinson Books, 'and it will most likely become a bestseller after the changes.'  
Neville furrowed his brow. 'Changes? What changes? This is my life, this is my story! How can you change it?' he said in disbelief.  
Miss Watford smiled at him. 'Yes, of course, this is your story, but it is far from being a marketable product at this time. My family has released books for almost two hundred years and you can trust me, this book will sell like hot cakes when we have finished fixing it. We know what people want to read.'  
'What kind of changes are you talking about? I can't put my name on a falsification!' Neville whined, a bit louder than he had meant to.

Wilkinson put his glasses on and glanced quickly at the memo that Neville still hadn't managed to catch a glimpse of. 'We have decided to change the focus of the story slightly, along with minor changes of the title and editing.'  
'The title?!? "Neville Longbottom and the Two-Faced Bastard"? It took me three days to think of that one!' By now, Neville was getting quite upset.  
Miss Watford's smile faltered for a second but she managed to regain her composure.  
'It's very nice, but we have decided that "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" is most likely to sell copies,' she said, and glanced involuntarily at Harry.

'Harr- Harr-,' Neville stammered, 'HARRY POTTER AND THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE!'  
The accusing words echoed loudly in the big room. 'Harry Potter! Harry Potter! Harry bleeding Potter and the Philosopher's Stone!' Neville snarled and stared at his friend.  
'This is not what it looks like,' Harry said hurriedly, 'I didn't want this myself at first but Mr Wilkinson has explained it all to me. We'll both get much more than if the book wouldn't sell.' Harry avoided Neville's gaze. 'Also, it's not easy to say no to ten percent of the gross.'

'Ten percent?' Neville couldn't believe his own ears. 'I get four percent! And it was I who defeated Voldemort! You can't do this to me!'  
Wilkinson cleared his throat and flipped through the contract. 'Actually, we can, according to sub-article fourteen of article seven, chapter three, page 47. Your initials are there on the bottom on the page, as they are on all the other pages.' He looked awkwardly at Neville.  
'The name is also a problem. The fans would much rather be known as "Potterheads" than "Longbottomites".'  
Wilkinson couldn't hide the smirk. 'Neither can you deny that Harry carries the Mark of Voldemort rather more fetchingly than you do.'

'The Mark of Voldemort? Could you possibly be referring to his infamous spatula scar?' shouted Neville, quite visibly agitated. 'Now that devious snake will profit from fainting on an upturned spatula after gorging himself on far too much sugar in my birthday party? It is I who carry the Mark of Voldemort, nobody else!' Understandably, Neville didn't like the idea of showing the mark to people, but he was way beyond caring. He released his suspenders and turned around. In his state of agitation, the red handprint on his right buttock glowed brightly.

'I have carried this mark ever since I remember, it has caused me more pain and distress than I care to recall. Is it really worth so little?' Neville asked incredulously. Mr Wilkinson cleared his throat again. 'You must see, my dear Neville, that we can't use a protagonist who shrieks and grasps his posterior everytime the archvillain approaches. You're simply not credible as a hero.'

Neville was speechless. He stormed out of the room and didn't turn around when Harry called after him.


End file.
